"Yes, yes," replied the German, smiling, "even you. General; I've noticed it. Well, I report for punishment, and will tell the whole story because--because I'm afraid the little one's life is in danger." "Tell your story," Saturninus commanded, evidently startled. "Who gave you the wine?" "Davus, the Prefect's slave." "Ah--and what happened then?" "Then it happened that I drank too much, and when I mounted guard outside of the little one's tent, I soon fell asleep on the soft turf. A terrible growling roused me. The she-bear owned by a juggler, a Sarmatian, which I brought into camp yesterday and carried to the captive girl, acted exactly as though she were a human being, that is, a man; for she followed the red elf everywhere." "Suspicious! Did Bissula know the animal? Did she call it by any name?" "No. But she was very much pleased when she saw the she-bear; her face flushed and paled. So much pleased that I asked, as you did just now: 'Bissula, do you know each other? How does it happen that the beast will have nothing to do with anybody except you? Hark! how friendly her growl sounds: why doesn't she treat us the same?' "'Oh,' replied Bissula, laughing, 'she comes from our country and she knows that I am the only one who understands her Alemanni language. Don't you believe me? Well, then ask her,' she added, still laughing, shaking back her curling locks, 'maybe she will tell you.' "In short, the monster would not leave her side, and followed her into the tent when she went to bed. So the bear's growling waked me. I started up and saw by the light of the campfire a man, running at full speed, vanish around the corner of the nearest tent. "I rushed in. The young girl had seen nothing--she had fallen asleep. She was trying to soothe the furious animal, which, bleeding from a dagger thrust in its right fore-paw, was angrily crunching in its jaws a piece of brown cloth. At last Bissula, while washing the wound, coaxed it away. Here it is." He gave it to Saturninus. The Roman General examined it closely. "This is certainly--but stay! Do you speak first, Rignomer. What do you think it is?" "A fragment from the hem of a mantle." "What kind of a mantle?" "A Roman one: a sagum," "Who wear brown mantles--the only ones?" "The Thracian spearmen and the mailed riders." "Right. Say nothing of this matter to any one; and go." "And my punishment?" "You are pardoned. But drink gift wine cautiously in future." "Indeed I will, General." "In the inspection I am about to make you will act shrewdly and prudently, as I order. And listen: one thing more. You owe the young girl some atonement: do you perceive it?" "Unfortunately." "Will you make it?" "Gladly." "Then mark me. She has complained that I have her watched continually, even during the day. Thrax, my fat scribe, to whom I gave the secret commission, has acted very awkwardly; she found him out long ago. I promised to rid her of him. But she must not remain unguarded."